Wasted Time
by MissSnarkling
Summary: There's no plot, just mindless writing here. Pony spent three months on a novel. Wow, that's dedication. I can't even spend thirty minutes on a drabble.


**Author's Note: Did I edit this at all? No. So I wouldn't expect perfection here, or anything half decent for that matter. I don't think they're a couple here, but if you want to be under the impression that they're at least crushing heavily on each other, then by all means, be my guest. May or may not add another chapter or two. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, and I hope you all have a lovely day, you beautiful creatures. **

There was the sharp sound of something falling over and breaking, but this time Johnny didn't flinch at the noise. He'd gotten pretty used to the occasional spurts of anger Ponyboy exhibited while stressing over his novel. He sat on the Curtis family's couch quietly tapping his fingers against his knee patiently, as he had done every day prior to for the past two months, and waited for Ponyboy to come out of his bedroom. The younger teen had begun to work on a novel a while ago, and he was at the very end of it at this point in time. This made Pony very irritable, to put it nicely. And he didn't want to see anyone, he didn't want to do anything; all he had time for was the novel.

Johnny had learned rather quickly that when Pony said, "No Interruptions," he really wasn't kidding. There had been yelling, and Johnny had remembered a pillow being thrown at him in a rather feminine fashion, but Johnny has still gotten the hint and hadn't bothered Ponyboy while he was working on his writing. Occasionally he'd bring Pony food, as the younger of the two would often forget to do simple things like eat and sleep when he was working on a piece of fiction.

Johnny wasn't quite sure why he came over every day, expecting Ponyboy to retire his writing utensils, but he did. He supposed if he didn't that he might actually offend the auburn haired greaser, or perhaps the teenager would starve to death from not having food regularly brought in for him. Johnny knew if he did ever decide to stop waiting that when Ponyboy eventually finished his novel that he would let Johnny know, maybe even apologize for being so horrible whenever the two did interact. 'I was just stressed out, you know how it is,' he would say, brushing it off. But it would be an apology, and it would be sincere, so Johnny would forgive him and they'd move on.

Johnny nearly jumped out of his skin when Ponyboy stepped out of his room. His clothes were wrinkled from having been slept in, and he looked absolutely exhausted. The dark haired male tried not to be too hopeful, because maybe Pony had just needed to go to the bathroom. But he knew the excitement was probably very visible on his face. "How's the novel?" he asked quietly.

Ponyboy sighed, but he gave his best friend a huge smile. "It's finished." He said proudly. "Over three hundred pages I think."

"That's great." Johnny said, beaming up at Pony. "Can I read it?"

Pony made a face at the suggestion. "Actually, I was hoping we could do something else with it instead, tonight at the lot?"

Johnny was confused, obviously. He felt like he deserved to be able to read the novel that his best friend had dedicated so much time and effort to. It had been nearly three months, and a lot had changed in three months, for the both of them. For all Johnny knew, perhaps Pony's favorite color had changed in the time he'd spent writing that novel. He could've loved the color red, but maybe that somehow played a significant role in his book, and now he couldn't bare the color, and was now more into blue or green. Not purple though, Ponyboy hates the color purple.

"The lot?" Johnny asked. What would they be doing there, and what did it have to do with his stupid book?

"Yeah, we haven't hung out in a while, it'll be fun."

A while. That was an odd term. It had been three months, not just _a while_. A while is like a week or two. Not three months.

"Yeah, okay." Johnny agreed.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon had passed by uneventfully as Ponyboy got used to normal life again. He got reacquainted with his brothers and the rest of the gang. No one seemed to care much that his novel was done, either. But then, Pony didn't either, really. He just seemed tired, like he couldn't be bothered to care.

Johnny however was eager to see what they'd be doing at the lot. Would they just read it as the sun went down? Seemed like something Ponyboy would want to do. Two of his favorite things, reading and watching the sunset, in one evening. Johnny couldn't honestly think of anything else.

But when the sun was due to set, and the two youngest greasers made their way to the lot, Johnny was shocked to see Ponyboy light a match and start a fire in the middle of the lot. It wasn't a particularly cold evening. Of course, when Johnny did finally realize what Ponyboy was planning on doing, he may have gotten a little angry.

"Are you kidding? You're just gonna burn it?" Johnny asked, the sun fading behind the horizon. "You spent months on that book, and now it's never going to be read, by anyone at all? You're joking right?"

Ponyboy frowned at the fire and then at Johnny. Johnny didn't understand. That stupid novel was the worst thing ever. He knew about a fourth of the way through that it was going to be a hellish journey. He hadn't expected it to be as awful as it was. Johnny didn't get it, that novel was one of the absolute worst things in the world, right up there with annoying socs and getting your cigarettes wet. That book was a waste of time, but Ponyboy couldn't have just stopped part way through it, that's weak, and that was something he couldn't afford to do, plain and simple. He stuck it out and now he wanted to get rid of it and pretend that the time spent on it never even occurred.

"I'm not joking. I thought you'd be happy?" Pony said, shaking his head. He knew that Johnny had been really down since Ponyboy started working on his little writing project. They were the only two that really connected with each other, and Pony had spent nearly all of his free time, all of the time he normally spent with Johnny, on something he'd grown to hate. In the back of his mind he's tried to rationalize with himself so he wouldn't feel too guilty. 'It's good to spend time away from each other,' he had told himself. But now they could go back to being best friends.

"You spent literally all your time on that novel, Pony. I figured that it meant a lot to you. I was kinda looking forward to seeing what it was about." Johnny tried to articulate what he was saying, but he couldn't quite figure it out for himself.

Pony was quiet for a minute, letting that sink in. But no, he decided, this novel was a dumb idea anyways, and he was absolutely done with it. And with that thought he threw it into the fire, watching the pages turn black and curl in on themselves.

Johnny didn't say anything, he just watched the flames burn up the novel. He wanted to yell at Ponyboy, curse at him and tell him just how angry his very action had made him. But Johnny didn't say anything. He tended to be quiet, even around Pony, so this wasn't that odd, and Ponyboy didn't comment on the silence. The two of them just stood there in the dark watching the crackling flames lick at the paper that remained, disappearing in a large pile of ash.


End file.
